Shiver me Timbers
by Celebwen Telcontar
Summary: A songfic to the Bette Midler song Shiver me Timbers.  Elizabeth is fed up with living with Will, and leaves Port Royal.  J/E.  AU after Curse of the Black Pearl.  Ignores Dead Man's Chest, At World's End and On Stranger Tides.  Please read and review.


**_Celebwen__Telcontar: __Here__'__s__a__new__story! __It __is __AU __after __the __first __movie. __There __is __no _Flying Dutchman _or __anything __else __from _Dead Man's Chest _onwards. __Also, __this __is __set __in __the __time __the __actual __island __of __Tortuga __was __a __real __pirate __port, __the __mid-17__th __century, __1650__'__s __or __so._**

_**Balrog: Lovely. Destroy Disney, why don't you.**_

_**Celebwen Telcontar: Humph. Disney has demolished so many things I don't care what I do to Cannon. As far as I'm concerned, straightening the timeline is better than leaving it a mess. Debilitating corsets, like the one Elizabeth wore when she went cliff-diving, didn't come into fashion until the Victorian era, the 19th century—**_

_**Balrog: Stop boring everyone with timeline inconsistencies! Just get to the story!**_

**_Celebwen__Telcontar: __Fine. __This __is __a __songfic __to __the __Bette __Midler __song _Shiver me Timbers_. __Please __review, __people!_**

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><p>She sat at the window, day in, day out, looking out over the streets of Port Royal. Will was late again, as was becoming a habit. Elizabeth got up and opened a cabinet and grabbed one of the bottles that were stashed there, pulled the cork with her teeth, and spat it out before taking a healthy swig of the liquid inside. It burned fiercely down her throat, leaving a sweet taste in the back of her mouth, and was spicy and sugary at the same time. She felt her sinuses clear as she drank another gulp of rum, pacing back and forth. Where was Will? He was usually late, yes, making swords, lances, horse bits, horseshoes, and other things to be sent back to England because of the Civil War. Mr. Brown had died three years previous, passing in his sleep after getting thoroughly drunk. She missed her husband, yes, but more than that she missed the freedom of being on the ocean. She hadn't realized what it was she was longing for at first, but after settling down into society, as befitted a woman of her station, she became bored. And more bored. And ready to rip the hair from her head because she was so blasted <em>bored!<em> When she had told Will that she was bored sitting at home with nothing to do aside from yammer like a goose with the other society ladies, he bought her several books. One of these books had been printed by some Hermit person. Will thought the book was a good one for her to read; it was called "The Whale", and was about a whaling ship. After the first few sentences, she was sucked back into her beloved world of the high seas. Though pirates didn't show up in the book, she still loved it and had read it cover to cover several times.

The thoughts of the ocean, the power of the wind, the freedom of being out there, called her like a siren's song. She didn't even realize what she was doing when she rifled through Will's wardrobe, taking out a pair of breeches, a shirt, and an old, wind battered hat. She put them on, tying her hair up under the hat and smudging her face and hands with soot. She packed a small bag of things she would need, such as a couple extra shirts, an extra pair of breeches, and a couple pairs of undergarments. She put on her old boots, tied a colorful sash about her head, and sneaked out through the window, headed for the port and a sailor's position. She would claim to be a eunuch, escaping from a church choir.

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><p><em>Well, I'm leavin' my family, leavin' all my friends<br>My body's at home, but my heart's in the wind  
>Where the clouds are like headlines upon a new front page sky<br>My tears are salt water, the moon's full and high._

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><p>Captain Jacob Anders was very proud of the <em>Sea <em>_Eagle_. It was a small ship, hardly large enough to take supplies from Port Royal to the French or Spanish colonies, or even the small ones on the Northern coast up America, where a score or so years ago a few people had managed to eek out a living in that savage wilderness, teeming with wild beasts and red Indians. Anders shuddered; the very thought of living in such a terrible place was horrifying. To ease his mind, he looked into the rigging. Elijah Swanson, a new sailor picked up from Port Royal, was doing very well, scrambling to and from the sails as though he was born in them. He had admitted to being a eunuch and an escapee from a church choir, which was the reason for his lack of beard and slim, feminine figure. He was pretty enough to pass for a girl, and had a habit of working the rigging when no one else wanted to, such as midnight watch and during impending storms. He had a good eye, too, and had saved the _Eagle_ from three separate hurricanes since he had signed on.

"_Sail __ho!__"_ a sailor cried from the rigging. Captain Anders looked up in time to see Swanson lock his legs about the mast and swarm up even higher, accepting the spyglass from the older sailor with less reliable sight.

"Where away?" Anders called up.

"_Five __points __of __the __starboard __bow!__"_ Swanson hollered down. He even had a clear, bell like voice, probably the reason the church wanted him as a castrato singer. _"__All __black __sail __set, __Captain! __Jolly __Roger __colors __over __crossed __swords! __She's __bearing __down __fast!__" _A chill went down Anderson's back. All black sail and a Jolly Roger; a fleshless skull, over two crossed swords: one of the most infamous pirate flags. There was a pirate ship, said by many to be the fastest ship ever sailed, that never sailed with anything but black sails. The hull had also been blackened with tar, the tales said, and so anyone would know the _Black __Pearl. _The idea of facing pirates was not good, and Anders suppressed a shudder.

"Set stuns'ls!" Anders bellowed. Swanson and the other men in the rigging scrambled about, letting the small, triangular sails tacked to the sides of the square sails to fall, filling with wind. Anders gnashed his teeth, looking up the mast as Swanson tucked the spyglass in his breeches and shimmied up the mast, returning to the post of lookout and opening the spyglass.

"_She's __closing __fast, __Captain!__" _Swanson hollered, eye to the glass and at the rapidly approaching ship.

"Alright," Anders muttered. _"__All __hands __lay __aft!__" _the captain bellowed out, and the sailors came swarming to the poop deck. "We have a problem. A pirate ship, the _Black __Pearl_, is headed our way and gaining on us fast. We need to vote whether to fight or surrender." The sailors voted to fight, and Navy issued pistols and swords were passed around. Swanson slipped two pistols in his waistband, and scrambled back up the mast to perch on the mainsail, his spyglass out and watching.

"_All __cannon __out, __Captain!__" _Swanson hollered, and Anders replied by ordering the cannons on his ship to get ready to fire. Then, the _Pearl_ was upon them. Pirates swarmed over from the other ship, forcing the crew of the _Sea __Eagle_ to fall back. One pirate pointed his gun up into the rigging, and fired at Swanson, who came down in a controlled tumble with the aid of a rope, hitting the pirate in the head with his good leg, the other one a mess of blood, the bullet obviously having hit the young sailor. The pirate went down, and when Swanson landed on the deck, an older pirate with grey side whiskers took a double-take at Swanson's appearance, and helped him stand. Anders was confused at this obvious camaraderie between the pirate and Swanson, and when Swanson hissed in pain as the older pirate used a sash as a tourniquet on his leg, obviously trying to help the young sailor.

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><p>And <em>I <em>_know __Joe __Comrade __would __be __proud __of __me  
>And <em>_many __before __me __been __called __by __the __sea  
>Come <em>_up __to __the __crows __nest __singin' __your __saying  
>Shiver <em>_me __timbers, __I'm __sailing __away_

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><p>Gibbs spirited Elizabeth onto the <em>Pearl<em> as soon as he saw her. She was injured, had been by one of the new crewmembers picked up from Tortuga last month. Young miss Swan had taken the pirate out, crushing his nose as she swung down from the mast, killing the new crewmember.

After the raid was over, Marty brought over a bottle of whiskey, and Gibbs poured some liberally into Elizabeth's wounds, for the bullet had passed through the side of her thigh, and loosened the tourniquet to let some blood back into the limb. He took a needle he had dipped in whiskey, same with the silk thread, and stitched her two wounds closed. She didn't even cry out, only clenched her hands.

"Thanks, Gibbs," she said.

"Miss Elizabeth, what were you doing on that ship?" Gibbs asked. Marty was standing in earshot, obviously wanting to hear the answer as well. Cotton came up, with his parrot perched on his shoulder, and Pintel and Regetti went to find the Captain.

"Living with Will was stifling. I couldn't do it anymore; and decided to go to sea. The _Sea__Eagle_ accepted me as a church choir escapee named Elijah Swanson, and I became their primary lookout. We shipped goods from the Caribbean to all over the British Empire, including some of Will's weapons to England for help with the civil war going on."

"What do you know about the civil war?" Marty asked.

"They're considering beheading King Charles, last I knew, and the rebels are being lead by a man named Oliver Cromwell." Elizabeth took a swig of the whiskey, and handed it back to Marty. "Good whiskey; I prefer rum though."

"'Course ye do," a voice drawled. "What are you doing on my ship, Mrs. Turner?"

"I was on the _Sea __Eagle_ until the _Pearl _attacked it, Captain Sparrow. I killed the man who wounded me, and Gibbs brought me aboard the _Pearl_."

"Good for him. Where's young Mr. Turner?"

"Back in Port Royal last I heard, and married to some innkeeper's daughter. Frankly, I don't give a shit. I left Port Royal to get out of the smothering of high society."

"And so you joined a merchant ship?" Jack asked, playing with one of his beard braids.

"Yes. The… the sea was calling to me."

"She doesn't let you go," Jack acknowledged. "Welcome aboard the _Black __Pearl_, if you can keep your hands from me rum."

"Jack, I won't blow up the rum. I like it too much now," Elizabeth chuckled. "I can steer, haul rigging and anything else on deck until my leg shapes up, then I can be a lookout as I was on the _Sea __Eagle_.

"Good. First thing you'll do is swab the deck." The Captain walked off, humming under his breath.

Over the next few months, Elizabeth became a fixed figure in the _Black __Pearl_'s daily routine. She was the main lookout, and helped with the rigging whenever she could. Her leg healed with only a massive pair of scars, one for the entrance wound of the bullet, the other for the exit wound. She was invaluable to the crew, as nimble as a monkey, yet with wiry, flat muscles that allowed her to pull and haul anything as well as the men did. She grew her hair out again, tying it back in a braid and perching a tricorn hat atop it, sometimes a scarf over her head and the ends braided into her hair. She took to wearing bright garments, gaudy jewelry, and using a thick brogue. She was nothing like the pampered Port Royal highborn woman she had been born as, and soon Jack began to see that.

Elizabeth and Jack would talk over the times when she was taking her watch, often at the same time Jack was, and they conversed on their love of the sea. Often they would talk about what happened when Elizabeth left Will, and once, when they were both completely drunk, he showed her his cabin. The next morning, Elizabeth woke up in Jack's bed, completely naked, and with a massive hangover. It never took drink again to get Elizabeth into the Captain's cabin, and she shared it with him before long. In a fit of whimsy one day, he officially married himself to her, and she changed her name to Elizabeth Sparrow, more often than not known as Lizzie.

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><p><em>And the fog's lifting, the sand is shifting, I'm drifting on out<br>Old Captain Ahab I'm longing to hear from you  
>Swallow me, don't follow me, I'm traveling alone<br>The water's my daughter, I skip like a stone_

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><p>"Mama! Mama!" The voice was insistent, and Lizzie Sparrow looked up from watching the sea to see her daughter, Pearl, in the rigging with her.<p>

"Pearl, get down this instant! You'll break your fool neck, you will!" The young girl only laughed and snuggled up to her mother. "Papa wants you to come down!" Pearl swung herself onto her mother's back, clinging like a monkey. Lizzie slid down a rope, using a pair of thick-palmed leather gloves to keep from burning her hands, Pearl squealing with joy the entire time.

"Happy birthday, love," Jack said, plucking their daughter off of the young mother's back. Gibbs handed the girl a leather glove, which she donned, and the old pirate handed her a very pretty swan-sized bird, which stared at her. It ruffled the purple and gold plumage slightly before letting loose a loud chirruping cry. The crew had seen the odd bird from time to time, and thought Gibbs had just taken a liking to it. The crew had taken to calling it "Gibbs' Bird" for lack of a better name.

"Got it from Persia," Gibbs said with a shrug. "Thought the li'l princess would like it. Takes care o' Cotton's bird as she does."

"Thank you, Gibbs!" Pearl cried, hugging the old pirate. The bird squawked and walked up the girl's arm before it settled on Pearl's shoulder, preening itself. "I'll call her Sheba!" The bird made a chuckling sound, and bobbed her head. Marty presented Pearl with a compass, taken from an East Indiaman's captain's cabin, much to her delight. She loved looking at her father's compass, but was frustrated when it pointed only at what she wanted, which was usually the _Black__Pearl_ or her parents, when she wanted to have a story told to her. She was only a young girl, after all. The rest of the crew gave her small trinkets they had either created or stole, including a beautiful piece of glass made by Cotton from shards of various bottles all glued together with tar. The finished product looked like a blue dolphin swimming through green waves, a piece of a brown bottle as its eye.

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><p><em>And <em>_the __fog's __lifting, __the __sand's __shifting, __I'm __drifting __on __out,  
>Old <em>_Captain __Ahab's __got __nothin' __on __me  
>Swallow <em>_me, __don't __follow __me, __I __travel __alone  
>The <em>_water, she's __my __daughter, __I'll __skip __like __a __stone_

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><p>Admiral James Norrington caressed the hull of the <em>Dauntless<em>, the last time he would sail on her, as he was retiring to a life of privilege when he returned to England. He was taking Weatherby Swan, the former governor of Port Royal, William Turner, the best Blacksmith in the Caribbean and his wife, Margaret Turner, and their children, John and Elizabeth to England. Weatherby was still a fixed part in the Turner's lives, even after Weatherby's daughter ran off who-knew-where. Norrington had heard through gossip that the Black Pearl had acquired a new crewmate, a woman with honey blonde hair and piercing hazel eyes. He was positive this was Elizabeth. At least then she would be safe. Besides, Norrington knew that Elizabeth had many friends aboard the_Black__Pearl_, and knew that she was happy on the pirate ship.

"Sail ho!" a voice rang out. Norrigton looked up from habit, but Captain Daniels was the one in charge now.

"Where away?" another sailor cried; Daniels was the type to make sure the ship ran according to code, not a single thing left undone or done too much. The sailors all wore shoes, even though the ones in the rigging would be far better off without them.

"Five points off the Port stern!" the lookout called back down.

"What colors does she fly?"

"Jolly Roger over crossed swords!"

"What sail?"

"All black plain sail set!" At the exchange of shouts, Norrington kept from gnashing his teeth. If he were in command, the lookout would have said all that in one shout, not kept yelling back and forth like fans at a cricket match. The sailor on the deck walked, calmly and with measured steps, to Captain Daniels.

"What color is the hull?" Norrington cried out, having a suspicion of what the ship was.

"Black, Sir!" the lookout called back. "Bearing down fast!" Obviously the crew preferred Norrington to Daniels.

"Sir," the sailor said to Daniels, saluting. "We are being tailed by a ship with black sails which flies a Jolly Roger." The Captain couldn't have missed the shouting match, but he acted as though he had, placing a sugar cube in his tea and gently stirring it after giving Norrington a considering look.

'This is madness,' Norrington thought. 'The only ship out there that flies a Jolly Roger and has black sails and a black hull is the Black Pearl. We can't out run her, so the only thing we can do is to surrender. Besides, Elizabeth is on that ship.'

"Captain," Norrington said, looking down at the overly pompous man in the chair. "The ship we are being tailed by will catch up to us. It's the _Black__Pearl_."

"Admiral," Daniels said. "Please, take a seat. We are in the British Navy, not a child's tale. The _Black __Pearl_ does not exist."

"I beg your pardon. It exists, as does its cursed crew." Norrington took a gamble. "The crew and ship are cursed; they are invulnerable and immortal. I have faced them and was lucky to escape with my life."

"I will not surrender the pride of the British Navy to some children's fable," Daniels said, the calmness of his voice maddening to Norrington.

"It is not a children's fable, Captain. We cannot fight, we cannot outrun it, and so we must surrender."

"Smith!" the captain said. The sailor who had been in the shouting match came over.

"Sir?"

"Take Admiral Norrington to his stateroom, and make sure he gets some rest. He seems a little out of sorts." Norrington knew what was going on. Daniels would have Norrington arrested when he arrived in England on some trumped-up charge, and probably hung before long. As he was being escorted to his cabin, he saw little John look at him. The boy had dark hair and dark eyes, and reminded Norrington a lot of Will Turner.

The door opened, and he was shoved in his cabin. Undoubtedly, he would be guarded day and night, under the pretense of making sure he was safe and able to rest. The idea drove him mad.

Suddenly, he heard a clicking on the window. He opened them, to find a beautiful violet peacock like bird flutter in, looking up at him with intelligent dark eyes. It crooned, and rested for a time on the back of his chair before stealing his wig and flying off. He laughed at the bird's antics; he didn't care about the wig anymore since he was going to be arrested. He sat on his bunk where the bird had been, and picked up a tail feather it had dropped. The feather was the length of a peacock's tail feather, and had the same eye-like pattern on the end, only instead of being in shimmering blues and greens, the color was deep purple and pale gold. He took his penknife and began to shape the end of the quill to a writing end, and placed it in a place of honor on his desk beside his stationary. He lay down on his bunk, waiting for the inevitable. Either the _Black__Pearl_ would catch up to them and raid the _Dauntless_, or she would catch up to them and Daniels' crew would beat them back. Either way, it wasn't good for Norrington.

He woke from his impromptu nap when the door was slammed open, a sailor thrusting the civilians, Will, Margaret, Elizabeth and John Turner and Weatherby Swan into the room, then left, locking the door behind him.

"What's happening?" he asked.

"The _Black __Pearl_ caught up to us," Will said. "Last I saw, the captain was fighting off Cotton's parrot."

"Cotton's parrot?" Norrington asked.

"Yes. Cotton, one of the _Black __Pearl_'s sailors, had his tongue cut out. The parrot talks for him. The captain was getting a face full of bird guano last I saw." John and Elizabeth chuckled. The ship rocked multiple times towards Starboard as the cannons on the Port side were fired. Margaret Turner sat on the bed, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. Then, what seemed like hours later, there was a click as the lock tripped. In stepped a young woman, maybe fifteen or so, with long dark hair and enigmatic dark eyes.

"Are you the Turners, Weatherby Swan, and Admiral James Norrington?" she asked.

"We are," Will replied.

"Good. You will follow me." She led them out of the room and up to the deck, where they saw Daniels tied to the mast. Some of the other crew was tied here and there, and others, most notably the ones who had been under Norrington when he was Commodore, were standing idly by the far stern mast.

"Ah, James! Just who I wanted to see," a voice called. The young woman stood near who was undoubtedly her mother, who was undoubtedly Elizabeth Swan. "This idiot says you are to be arrested, tried and executed as a traitor to the Crown... er... England when you arrive back there."

"I merely stated the futility of fighting with the crew of the _Black__Pearl_. He was considering either insinuating that I am a traitor or mad."

"Mad?" the girl asked.

"I mentioned the curse."

"Ah," Jack Sparrow said, toying with one of his slightly graying beard braids.

"I knew you were a traitor!" Daniels shouted from his spot at the mast.

"Shut up," Gibbs snarled at him, kicking him for good measure.

"Mama," a young boy said from near Elizabeth.

"Yes, Jimmy?"

"Who is this?"

"James, I'd like you to meet your namesake," Elizabeth said to Norrington, leading her son forward. "This is James Sparrow."

"So you took up with Jack then," Will said.

"Yes, I did. I'm sorry, but I couldn't live in Port Royal. Especially after I was introduced to the _Pearl_. I left, took a position as a lookout on the _Sea __Eagle_, the _Pearl_ caught up to us, and a new crewmember shot me in the leg. I killed him, and Gibbs took me onto the _Pearl_ and got me fixed up. Later, Jack married me, and we have four children; Pearl, James, and the twins, William and Weatherby."

"Where are they?"

"Back on the ship. They're not even a year old yet."

"Elizabeth," Weatherby said softly. He walked forward, and hugged his daughter, followed by his grandchildren. "I never thought you were dead. And now I have grandchildren. I wish I had been able to see them grow."

"Come over and meet the boys," Elizabeth said, walking over the gang plank between the two ships as though she'd done it all her life. "Will, you and your wife and children are also welcome aboard. I'm sorry... for everything."

"It was hard," Will said. "I wish you had stayed. I love you, Elizabeth. I always have."

"I—I'm sorry, Will." Will nodded.

"Are you my grandpa?" Jimmy asked Weatherby, breaking the tension between the adults. Pearl looked up at the older man questioningly.

"Indeed I am."

"I'm Jimmy."

"Good to meet you, lad," Weatherby said, picking the boy up. "You said you have two more on your ship?" Weatherby asked. "Can I meet them?" Elizabeth and Jack looked at each other. They seemed to communicate without a word. Finally they turned to Weatherby.

"Would you like to take them to England? They need a good education, Pearl and Jimmy were raised as best they could be, but nothing's like a good English education."

"I'd be honored." Jack sent Gibbs back to the _Pearl_ to bring the twins over to the _Dauntless_.

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><p><em>Please call my family, tell them not to cry<br>My goodbyes are written by the moon in the sky  
>Nobody knows me, I got no reason to stay<br>So shiver me timbers, I'm sailing away_

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><p>"They'll be alright," Jack said to Elizabeth, one hand on her shoulder. Pearl and Jimmy were in the rigging, and the <em>Dauntless<em>was nothing more than a speck on the horizon.

"They'll have a better future than here," Elizabeth agreed. She leaned on her husband's shoulder, before leading him to the captain's wheel where they watched the sun set over the horizon.

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><p><em><strong>Celebwen Telcontar: I hope people liked this.<strong>_

_**Balrog: Too much salt water for my tastes.**_

_**Celebwen Telcontar: You can't be on a ship anyways, you'd set it on fire.**_

_**Balrog: Hmph.**_

_**Celebwen Telcontar: Please review, everyone!**_


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